Saint (Angelview Academy #1) - E.M. Snow Page 0,72

death, I step out from my hiding place and clear my throat.

Saint and Laurel both swivel toward me in surprise, but her eyes squeeze into sharp slits the second she realizes it’s me.

“What the fuck are you doing here, welfare baby?”

I ignore her and look up at Saint with what I know is an angry expression. “You and I need to talk.”

“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something right now,” Laurel points out, her tone reaching a new level of nasty.

Saint shakes his head. “Actually, we’re done here.”

She gapes up at him. I can see her eyes begin to water, and I almost feel sorry for her. I hate that.

“But Saint, I—”

“You can go, Laurel. Now.”

She flinches at his harsh tone but doesn’t try to argue further. Turning, she shoots me a look filled with pure venom before she slumps away. I wait until I hear the locker room door close behind her before I begin my rant.

“What’s your problem, Angelle?”

He appears unfazed at my show of temper as he sits down on a bench in front of me.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His casual tone irritates me, and I filter in a deep, cleansing breath through my nose. “Where do you get off, telling Gabe you wouldn’t give me permission to join the boxing team?”

“You know exactly where I got off.” He lets his eyes wander up and down the length of my body, slowly, as if he’s undressing me in his mind right here and now. It flusters me—to the point that my breath grows heavy and my sex clenches under his hot gaze.

I shake my head to dispel the lustful haze he’s trying to trap me in. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not your toy or possession. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do!”

He doesn’t say anything to try and defend himself. Instead, he grabs my hand and yanks me toward him. I stumble, and he pulls me down so I’m straddling his lap. His hands tangle in my hair as his lips seal over mind in a blistering kiss. I clutch the front of his shirt as his tongue invades my mouth, and his hands drop to cup my ass and grind me against him. He’s getting hard beneath me, and I fight the urge to lower myself flush to his cock and dry hump him.

The bastard.

When he pulls away, I’m momentarily incapable of speech as I stare at him.

He grins, and it’s not fair how sexy it is. “I’ll see you tonight, Ellis.”

With that, he lifts me off his lap so he can stand, gives my ass a quick swat, then walks out of the locker room, leaving me baffled, frustrated, and so, so horny.

22

I’m on the verge of getting off for the third time in about as many hours. I’m sore and tender, but that doesn’t stop Saint from going at me like a starving man. His tongue is relentless as he laps at my folds and clit, and I’m a squirming, sweaty mess as I twist in my bedsheets, trying to escape him and yet force him closer at the same time.

Saint and I have been hooking up for over a week now. Each night, when I go to the pool, he’s the one that shows up to watch over me. Sometimes he swims, most nights he doesn’t. When I’m done, he’ll follow me back to my dorm where we take a shower together, then we’ll spend the next few hours attacking each other like maniacs. We don’t really talk all that much, and when we’re done, he gets up, gets dressed, and leaves.

The first couple of days, I didn’t mind the not talking part. It’s easier to stay detached, after all, if we’re not bothering to get to know each other. After a week of just pure sex, however, I’m starting to get a little agitated. I’m curious about him—this beautiful boy who’s tormented me in ways that are both beautiful and ugly. Even if I’m still not sure I like him, I want to know more about him.

We’ve already had sex twice tonight, and I’d figured he was done when it was clear his dick was down for the count, and I was hardly capable of moving. He’d surprised me when he’d pushed me to my back and begun kissing me in a frenzy, telling me he needed my taste on his tongue before he went to his own room. Now, I feel my